Time Crash Take 2
by AMysteriousWoman711
Summary: !SPOILER ALERT! One-shot! My idea of what the mini-sode "Night of the Doctor" might be like. 11 & 10 get into an argument while Clara supervises. Mostly from 10's POV. Italics signify 11's thoughts. Canon-complacent. Rated T for swearing. Drama/Comedy/Angst/Friendship. With some light Whouffle. ENJOY!


**Night of the Doctor (TIME CRASH TAKE II)**

**A/N: -SPOILER ALERT!-By now, most of us are aware that there will be a minisode called "Night of the Doctor" which will explain how the 10th and 11th Doctors will meet up...and then go on to help each other in the 50th. Right or wrong, only time will tell...but here's my One-shot take on how this might occur. Mostly from 10's POV. ****_Italics_**** signify 11's thoughts, when needed. Drama/Humor/Angst. Rated T for some swearing. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: (To the tune of Fa-La-La) I do not own the Doctor, fa la la la la, la la la la. Moffat owns the whole damn thing, fa la la la la, la la la la. Please don't sue this nice poor author, fa la la la la, la la la la.**

**DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW DWDWDWDWDW**

The 10th Doctor was brooding. He was alone again. A year had already passed since the day he had said goodbyes to all of his remaining friends & companions... dropping them off in their various cities on Earth to begin their new lives or to get back to their old ones, in Sarah Jane's case...since he had been forced to leave Rose and his half-human Clone in Pete's World...since he had been forced to take all of Donna's memories of him so that her mind wouldn't burn...since he had stood in the pouring rain while Wilf had told him that touching speech about "looking up at the stars" and thinking of him, the Doctor, and all that he had done for the people of Earth...

'What have I done? Really? I've uprooted so many lives...' But no, he can't think like that...but somehow, these thoughts and more kept plaguing him.

At first, he had tried to keep busy, thinking that if he did, he wouldn't have to remember...so he started tinkering in the TARDIS, fixing things that didn't need fixing...visiting this or that planet, even venturing out into the streets on occasion, doing all his usual investigating and wandering...but not really taking in the sights...and not really caring to, if he was honest with himself.

These distractions worked...for a little while...but eventually, he had to go back to his TARDIS, alone...and then the thoughts and emotions he had denied were there, came flooding back...especially that last trip to Barcelona, the planet, not the city...the one he had promised to take Rose when he had first appeared in this form...so, so long ago...

Why the hell had he gone there? To torture himself? To prove a point?

Things just didn't excite him like they used to. He just didn't see the point of traveling anymore...he had no one to show off to, no one to explain cultural histories to, no one to share food with, no one to run away with...and no hand to hold...

He hadn't been this depressed since... 'Well...let's just not go there, shall we?'

However, whatever thoughts were about to re-surface, were immediately pushed back when, seemingly out of nowhere, he realized 2 very alarming things: 1) The hand that had been about to press down a lever was fading from view, and so was the rest of his body, rather quickly at that...and 2) In another second, he found himself in a very different, yet all too familiar-shaped room...

The 10th Doctor stood there, gazing about the new console, with utter shock written all over his features, taking it all in, but grabbed the railing to steady himself, at first. He recovered quickly, though.

"Huwhat!? Huwhat just happened? Where am I? Weelll, actually, I think I know exactly where I am...but how-?"

The 11th Doctor peeked around the other side of the Time rotor, like a shy little boy peeking around his mother's skirts upon meeting a stranger for the first time. But his expression changed from anxious to friendly in 0.5 seconds. "Ah...there you are. See, Clara...I told you I could get it working again." He then gave a smug grin to the person he must have been talking to, to his right. Whoever it was didn't reply back, and the 10th Doctor couldn't see their face from his vantage point, but he heard a small exasperated sigh.

Time to get to the bottom of this. "Wait...who are you? How did you manage...I donno...'teleporting' me off of my ship like that? That's not ever supposed to happen."

"Hello! Yes! Welcome back!" The 11th Doctor made a slight move forward as if to hug him, but thought better of it at the last minute.  
"I must admit this is quite awkward for me...but wow...I've aged you terribly...so sorry bout that. My bad."

'Ok...this was getting weird'...and as a time-traveling alien who had seen his fair share of weird over the last 900 years, that was saying a LOT. And he was losing patience. He repeated his earlier question, this time with more oomph. "WHO ARE YOU?"

This man who had yet to say his name or title or anything that made even one bit of sense, walked a few steps closer, threw his hands out, encompassing himself and the room at large, spoke slowly, "Take a good long look, Doctor, and think about it for a mo'. Look where you are...and I'm sure it'll come to you." He winked at the 10th Doctor then...as if sharing a big secret.

'Alright...if that's how he wants to play it, fine. I'm game.' "Hmm...let's see..." 10 does a complete 180 degree turn around this strange fellow, noticing every detail, from the coif of hair to the scuffed boots. "Judging solely by your lack of fashion sense, and the fact that you know who I am, and the fact that yes...I have to admit the room *does* look a little too familiar...which means..."

11 chuckles a bit under his breath, but says nothing, certain that the solution would dawn on his younger counter-part soon enough.

And then...BAM! The truth hits the 10th like a sack of flour in the gut. "Oh! Nooooo...no way! You are kidding me! Really? Which one are you? How far ahead? Wait...don't answer that...if you are...who I think you are...then...blimey! Wow! Uuhh...where to begin?"

11 couldn't resist a bit of cheek. "Well, usually one might say hello as way of greeting another person...but perhaps we can skip over that bit, eh, now that we know who we are?"

10 can't help it. His curiosity has finally come back. And all it took was for another version of himself to appear. "Do you mind if I ask which one you are?"

"Would you really *want* to know?" 11 shot him a concerned look, gauging his predecessor's emotions carefully. He had to be very careful not to say too much...then again, this very meeting was something of a miracle...things had gone very wibbly-wobbly indeed because of his meddling...but back to the question at hand...

"Weeeeellll, yeah...actually, I rather would like to know. That is, if you don't mind? After all, I have to address you somehow, don't I?  
I can't just call you The Doctor, can I? 'Would get too confusing...remember the last time we did this? This...'meeting ourselves' thing?"

11 nods in understanding. "No, I don't mind." He states proudly, straightening his bow-tie and puffs out his chest a little bit.

"I'm the Eleventh."

Apparently, though, this statement has the opposite effect on 10 than he had hoped for. Instead of a shared sense of pride & respect, there came...laughter?

"HA! Are you serious?" The 10th sputtered between bursts of manic chuckling. "Wait...hold on...*you're* the next one after me? Weeeellll, this day just keeps gettin' better & better, doesn't it?"

Sensing the obvious sarcasm of that last sentence, the 11th couldn't help but be a little put out by this odd turn of events. "Listen, I'm trying not to be insulted by your look of incredulity...but yes, I'm the next one. Now, if you'd be so kind as to stop, please? I have a very serious matter to discuss with you."

"But just look at you, 'Doctor'! Or me, rather...my God! I'm a kid! A bloody kid! What are you, twelve years old?"

Getting rather defensive now, 11 defends himself fiercely: "Oi! Now, Doctor... behave yourself! And not a word about my chin or my bow-tie!" His hand immediately finds its way subconsciously to said bow-tie, cradling it, protecting it, shielding it from view.

But the 10th Doctor wasn't done yet... "And is that *purple* tweed? A purple tweed jacket...and a vest...with our old pocket-watch..."

"Oi! You! Shut it! Tweed is cool!"

"Look, I'm sorry, but has anyone ever told you that you look like a train conductor in that outfit?"

Then from out behind the rotor, came a mysterious, but decidedly female, decidedly young, self-assured voice, with the hint of a Liverpool accent: "Yep. Loads of times. He doesn't listen. Might as well be talking to a brick wall."

Upon hearing it, it stopped 10's laughing really quick. "And who was that, eh?" He craned his neck to see if he could spot them...and took a few steps around the rotor, but 11 stopped him by putting a hand on his...their?...'pronouns are useless now'...arm and said by way of warning..."Don't. Not yet."

Whether that was for his sake or the girl's, he didn't know. Maybe both? He couldn't quite read this Doctor's expressions...but it was a warning. No doubt about that. A subtle one...yes...but why? Why was it warranted? Why was she hiding back there anyway?

For the moment, though, 10 felt it best to listen to his...older?...self and not push the issue. After all, he just got here. No point in fighting with himself. So instead he took a respectable step back and changed to a different topic: "So...how did we...ehm...ya know?"

Relieved that the tense moment was gone, but still on his guard, 11 responded, "Spoilers, mate. Trust me, best leave that one alone."

And with one little word, the tense levels went up a notch. 'Nooo...did he just say...what I think he said?' 10 visibly gulped. In a much more breathy whisper, he said, "*She* said that once...in...in The Library...she said that word...'spoilers'. She knew...our name. Our real name, she even whispered it into our ear..."

11 looked sad and uncomfortable. He answered, in a sort of half-whisper, "And she will say them many, many more times." He was now looking at the floor by his feet...with a sad smile, obviously remembering things...things that had yet to happen to 10. Or perhaps never would? It was clear, however, that whatever he was remembering...it was happy, at least. "But that isn't important right now."

Sensing the change of subject, 10 answered, "Quite right. So...why? Why all of this? Why am I here? Shouldn't we be trying to get our TARDISES apart or something!? Don't we get Belgium in 5 minutes!? It's probably my fault...forgot to put my shields up again...always forgetting to do that...Or...or...or is this about something else entirely?"

"No, oddly enough. No Belgium this time. It's me. I did this. I brought you here. Long-range teleport. Very wibbly-wobbly. Definitely broke a few of our more stringent rules to do it. But I did it because...something far worse may happen if we don't stop it."

10 had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. 'It just never stopped, did it?' But he also felt that little surge of excitement at the prospect of being needed, of another adventure awaiting for him...'for me...for us...whatever...' And honestly, it felt damn good. But for some reason, he felt the need to hide that particular emotion from...himself...at the moment. So he made a slight pouty face. "Oh? Really?"

It worked...or at least, 11 was playing into it well. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Who is it this time? Hold on...let me guess...Slitheen? Autons? Cybers? No? Aaawww...don't tell me it's the bloody Daleks...*again*?"

11 shook his head. "I honestly don't know. Going into this one slightly blind. But...um..." He then made a small, almost secretive wave of his hand by his side, beckoning the other person to him. "I...uuh...well, obviously, we're going to need some extra help on this. Outside intelligence, as it were. So I'm taking the liberty of bringing along some old friends...I hope you don't mind."

And there, finally! is the girl that his eleventh self was hiding from view...and he was right. She *was* young! In her mid-twenties, he imagined. Judging by her cardigan sweater, her stockings, her skirt, she was from 20th century Earth. She was short, skinny, had long brown hair, big brown doe eyes and wore a pleasant, friendly smile. She was looking at him in such a way that reminded him of...

Wait...she had put her hand out, no doubt waiting for him to shake it...'Blimey...snap out of it! Shake the girl's hand already!'

"Hi Doctor! I'm Clara. Clara Oswald." He shook her hand warmly. And out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but notice that 11 was looking rather nervous all of a sudden. He was tapping his fingers on the console. 'I wonder why?' "Pleasure to meet you, Clara."

"You probably don't remember me, do you? Not this you, anyway. That's OK. It's good to finally, properly meet this you for once! And can I just say how much I like your hair? It's positively gravity-defyingly cool."

10 grinned widely. "Oh, I like her, Doctor."

"Well, yeah...you do. At least you will." Came the reply from the console. Then a muttered, "Quite a lot actually..."

'Hmm...I wonder if he knew he said that out loud?' 10 pondered for a minute. 'Then again, I wonder if Clara heard it too?' One look at her and he knew she did...she had glanced up at 11. Her eyebrow was quirked, but she was smiling into her hand. And better yet, to 10's utter amusement...and 11's utter humiliation, 11 knew she had heard him. He was blushing up a storm now...looking everywhere but at her and fiddling idly with his bow-tie. 'Oh my...I seem to have stumbled into the middle of something here...' 10 mused.

11 promptly pulled himself together and coughed, attempting to clear the air and get back to business. But because of what he was about to suggest to 10...well...one might think the awkward silence had never even been broken. "But...um...anyway...there's someone else that we need to...ahem...'pick up'...and I don't know how bet to break it to y-"

Clara raised her hand, as if answering a question in school, "Doctor? Let me handle this one, OK?"

She turns to face him, the 10th Doctor, full on...and oddly, takes his hands in hers gently, like a grief counselor might, and said in a strong, but soothing voice, "It's Rose, Doctor. We sorta kinda need to pick up Rose."

His reaction to this statement was, for lack of a better word...shock. He's positively dumbfounded. 'What!? What did she say!?' She can't have...no...it's not possible...they can't mean...' Some part of his internal monologue made its way into his speech, though when it did, it was stuttered and filled with panic. Which quickly climbed to then became 'Oncoming Storm' mode.

"No...no...but...but that's...that is impossible...you and both know that we can't! She's trapped! The walls are closed! She's...there...with...with *him*! We can't get her! That's simply *not* possible! Don't you know we've tried!? You must know! We've tried before! A thousand times, Doctor! And every time, nothing...And even if we *could* somehow punch a hole into that world, never-mind the fact that it would cause a helluva rift in time & space, what could we possibly say to her to make her want to leave that life? She's happy, for Rassilon's sake! She's with her family! She has *him* to keep her company...why would you...how could you...why would you rip her away from all that!? You know I want her back more than anything, Doctor...but why do you need her? Hmm? Answer me that! WHY?"

_While 10 ranted and raved and threw his fury at them both, 11 couldn't help but remember a vague recollection of having tried to rescue Rose Tyler from that parallel world any number of times...even after he had dropped her off with his clone. And honestly, he understood everything 10 was saying...hell, *he* had said them! But...this moment...everything that was happening now...memories were becoming fuzzy...everything was beginning to become very spacey-wacey and that wasn't good. Ever since they had jumped into his time-stream, things had become both crystal clear and extremely hazy at the same time: clear because he now knew who Clara Oswald truly was, but hazy when it came to his own memories...his own time-stream was unraveling...and the consequences had yet to catch up to them...and he knew they would eventually...he just hoped it wasn't today...but more than that, he needed to focus on what was going on in the here & now...needed to get his 10th self to understand the situation they were in...so that, maybe they could both get out of this alive and his time-lines intact. Speaking of the here & now...10 had asked him a question, hadn't he? 'Better answer it, then.'_

"Why, you ask? Good question. And you claim it's impossible. Well...good thing I brought along the "Impossible Girl" with me, eh?" He motioned to Clara, who had up until this moment, and all through the rant, stayed silent...but now smiled at 10 when it looked like he had stopped shouting and wiggled her fingers in a shy sort of wave. "Hi! That would be me."

"Please understand, 10. I understand your concern and I kind of half expected your reaction anyway, seeing as how it's still me...and trust me when I say, I don't like it anymore than you do. But truth is...we need her. Now, more than ever."

"But you still haven't explained why...*why* you need her...for...for whatever this other thing is...what does she have to do with it?"

11 considered his next words carefully. "It's for her...um...'unique gift'...that she took upon herself to save us...that we once died for in taking the 'gift' away the first time it happened...a very long time ago..."

Clara piped in once more. "Point is, Doctor...we need The Bad Wolf."

Tired from shouting, 10 had decided to slump into a pilot chair and rest his head in his hands while he collected his thoughts and reigned in his anger as much as he could...he just couldn't understand what his future self was thinking...it was sheer madness...is this what his future was? Had his madness and his loneliness completely taken over his faculties? To the point where he was breaking his own rules right and left, put reality and friends in harm's way in order to do the impossible...and hope to win? Every single time? With little to no regard to the possible consequences? To be fair...that is what he does...did...will do...he knows that now...until his dying day. And that may very well be today...bloody hell...and Rose...how the hell does she fit in with all this? Even his mind couldn't take this right now...all the uncertainty...and did this new, new, new Doctor have a plan? 'I suppose I have to give this new me at least a chance to prove himself...maybe it will be OK...'

And just as he had promised himself that he would give this new Doctor that chance...they had to go and mention those two words that sent chills down his spine. 'Bad Wolf' was what Rose had become to protect herself and his 9th self from the Dalek invasion on the Game Station...he still remembered that lingering kiss...and the bright glow of TARDIS energy that surrounded her. She had become a God of sorts that day...able to disintegrate entire Dalek fleets and brought Jack Harkness back to life...permanently. Something an ordinary human shop-girl should *never* be able to do. She had truly surprised him...and in return, he had fallen hard for her.

'And I'll be damned if I let this new me exploit Rose like that!' And like a pot boiling over, his anger raged to the surface yet again. He stood up to his full height, which still towered over this version, despite him being quite tall, straightened his back, and glared at 11.

"No! Nonononono...out of the question! We can't be serious!? She can't become the Bad Wolf ever again...it will *kill* her! You know it would...and...and...you're still going to do, aren't you? With or without my help...but I can't let you...let *me* do this! I won't!"

Clara, for her part, wisely stayed out of this particular spat and gave them some room. It had nothing to do with her...it was between the two Doctors...but her heart went out to the 10th. He clearly loved this "Rose" woman and would fight tooth & nail for her safety, just as much as her Doctor would fight for hers...had to admire that about him...

Meanwhile, 11 was trying for a rebuttal. "It's a possibility, yes...but not if we stick to my plan!"

10 countered with, "And since when has anything we have ever done actually gone to plan, hmm?"

11 seemed to consider this point. "Alright, fair point to you, 10. But I swear to you, my past, and my future, and all of time & space that Rose will be just fine when this is over. I promise. And we keep our promises, don't we Doctor?"

10 shot 11 a challenging look that spoke volumes, a look that was usually reserved for enemies, a look that clearly said, "You had better live up to this one...or else." But all he said was, "Whenever possible, of course...but not always..."

11 at least had the wherewithal to look slightly sheepish and guilty at that last comment. And he was about to say something else, but Clara, seeing that they had reached some kind of standoff, interrupted 11 before another fight could take place. They were wasting time this way and she had had enough of their quarreling. She tried to make light of the situation by attempting some humor.

"And what about the rest of us, Doctor? Should we be worried? And by we, I mean me, of course." And then, oddly enough, the TARDIS herself decided to finally join in on the conversation in her own way. She hummed. She sounded annoyed. And to both Doctor's surprise, Clara translated. "Ok...yes...I'll tell them...make that 2 of us who are worried."

Blinking away his astonishment that his two women in *his* life were *finally* getting along, 11 smiled at Clara. "How about that? But still, back to the matter at hand...no, I don't think so. Not really."

Clara gave him her patented, "You really expect me to believe that?" stare and he relented. "OK...fine. Yes. The problem is quite worrisome. There is a...um...a slight chance that none of us will survive any of this...try not to think about it too much."

"Oh great," Clara threw her arms up in frustration. "That's very reassuring..."

10 watched curiously as 11 wandered over to Clara, and quirked his eyebrow ever higher when 11 took her hands in his. "Come on, Clara...my Braveheart Clara...care to follow the daft old man on one more adventure?"

She gave him her best 'brave soldier' smile, confident & resolute. "OK, Chin Boy! You're on! No takesies-backsies!"

'Ok...*that* was hilarious.' 10 had to intervene now. He couldn't resist. "'Chin Boy'? Really? I've been called a LOT of things over the years, but 'Chin Boy'? Honestly? I mean, granted it's very appropriate, obviously..."

11 let out an irritated sigh. "Guys, can we focus here, please?"

10 acquiesced. "Fine. Still rude & not ginger, then? So, enlighten us, future me. From your point in time, what has been happening?"

Clapping his hands together for effect, taking center stage, he explained to them, or more specifically, to his old self, the brakes, as it were. "I recently received an urgent message via my psychic paper, coming from Earth. London, 20th century, 2013 to be exact."

"Who from?" demanded 10.

"Oh, you know...an old friend, you might say."

"Doctor! Just tell him already!"

11 put up his hands in mock complacency. "Alright, alright...fine...it was from Kate Steward. Lefty's daughter. All grown up. She runs Unit now."

'Definitely news to me! Good news! Bout time I heard some...' "Really? Never woulda guessed it...good for her. Wait a tic...where is 'Ol Lefty then? Retired, I imagine?"

11 answered tersely, "No. He's dead, I'm afraid. Not too long ago. Sorry."

"Anyway...moving on..." pushed Clara.

"Right. Yes. Um...she said something was wrong with the paintings..."

"Huwhat!? Paintings? What paintings? Not that we don't appreciate good artwork now & then...but why is it any of our business? What exactly did she say was wrong with them?" 'I mean, really...paintings?...I've been pulled out of my TARDIS, out of my natural time-line, and recruited by myself & his feisty new companion in order to investigate...what? Bits of art hanging on a wall?' Even he had to admit this was pretty ridiculous...and getting more ridiculous by the minute.

11 looked momentarily liked he was losing some of his cool. He gritted his teeth, saying, "She was very specific. She said...the paintings were...*alive*...that they were, and I quote: 'talking to each other'," putting the last bit in air-quotes as he said them.

Now 10 understood. And he felt sorry for Kate. Clearly she had gone batty in grief at the loss of her father, but decided to play along. "Well, that can't be good. Where did she say these paintings were, the Louvre? The Musei Dorsei?"

11 jumped around to pull on some levers, push a few random buttons on the console, and pulled his monitor around to display the coordinates to everyone else. "Nope. The Tower of London."

"Huwhat?" 10 whipped out his brainy specs and looked at the monitor himself...just to be sure he had heard himself correctly. "You weren't kidding...Tower of London...hm." Odd, that. Live, talking paintings...in the Tower of London...but something still wasn't connecting right...he could feel it. "Tell me more...tell me...no, hold on...*show* me exactly what she wrote on the psychic..."

11 showed it to him. "But...it still doesn't make sense, does it?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Can't you feel it? There's something we're missing here..."

11 nodded in agreement. "Yes. Yes there is. I think this is just the beginning of something...something big. Something insanely, awfully, maddeningly catastrophic. These paintings are just the tipping point...the real iceberg is still underwater, waiting for us to hit it."

In spite of himself, he was impressed with 11's word usage. "Nice imagery."

"Really? Thanks. I thought it may have been a bit overkill..."

"No, it was good. I liked it." And he really meant it, too.

Feeling a bit left out, Clara took this moment to chime in. She hopped down off the console where she had been sitting, and clapped her hands together, happily. "Well, this is all going to be terribly exciting, isn't it, Doctors? The three of us, soon to be four, cracking the case of the weird, talking paintings...it sounds rather thrilling, don't you think?" She comes over to stand between both of them, and begins to nudge his side as well as elbowing her Doctor's side as well. "Well, come on then, you two! Get to work! The TARDIS isn't going to pilot herself, is she?"

10 shared a knowing look with 11. Clara noticed. "Can she, though? Doctor? She can? Really?" She had a thoughtful look on her face. "Hm. Go figure..." The TARDIS then responded by causing one of the levers to go down all by itself. Clara jumped a bit, clearly startled, while both Doctors grinned impishly to each other.

"Right then! Let's get cracking!" crowed 11, while he stood back, leaning his lanky frame against the railing, watching the other Doctor pilot his ship, and feeling a tad...out of place...he missed his 'ol girl...the one with the coral struts and green glow...this TARDIS, while essentially the same at heart, had a more clinical feel to it, with a blue glow instead of green. 'Though, I suppose...it's more like the ones we used to have...'

As if Clara could read his mind, she said softly: "Feeling nostalgic?"

"Yeah, a bit."

"Don't worry...your TARDIS is safe, I'm sure. He wouldn't let anything happen to your old ship. He's too sentimental for that." She nudged him playfully in the side again, which earned her a smile from him. He could see why he had picked this one up. She was funny, she was kind-hearted, she was a bit bossy, like Donna...and she was brave. Yup. Definitely a keeper. He felt, not for the first time, though, a niggling feeling in the back of his mind...like...like this girl, Clara...like...he knew her...that was weird. He knew he had only met her today...but she had already made him feel...comfortable again...like he was in good hands with her...strange...

The 10th Doctor couldn't explain it...but felt himself growing excited, despite all the danger they faced. He was back among friends, well...sort of...he had an adventure to go on...and he was feeling more and more like the man he used to be...

"Alright gang! Here we go!" The other Doctor and Clara both gave him funny looks. "No? Okay...um...that's not the right word, is it? Uuh...team? Nope...that sounded rubbish...ehm...anyway, Allons-y!"

"And Geronimo!" 11 adds to the room at large.

At the controls, 11 manages a goofy side grin at Clara...silently mocking his old self, without 10 noticing. She catches this and starts giggling into her hand again upon hearing 10's famous words. The last time she had heard them was, of course, from the Cyber Planner and it had sounded wrong, somehow. Now, hearing them for real, from the right lips, they fit this version of him so well.

Meanwhile, 11 was lost in his own thoughts. Mostly involving the mystery at hand, but some lingered to Clara.

Clara then came over to stand by him, sort of leaning on his shoulder, and said, "It's funny...havin' two of you 'ere. At the same time. But, Doctor, I do have one teensy little question."

11 chuckles under his breath. "What is that, Clara?"

She leans in closer, whispers conspiratorially in his ear: "I was wondering...how exactly *are* we going to 'pick up' Rose Tyler from a sealed parallel world anyway? You never explained that part of the plan to me yet."

11 gulps. Considers this. Blinks a few times. Finally, he mutters: "Uuuuuummmm...with great difficulty."

Clara seems amused by this answer. But all she says is: "I was afraid you'd say that. Not surprised in the least, but still..."

11 quirks an eyebrow. "Do you doubt me, Clara Oswald?"

She grins at him again, this one genuinely amused, playing along to his ego a bit...then she glances over at 10, who appears to be studying the other side of the controls and frowning...and her grin grows wider still.

"Never did. Never will."

And 11 seems genuinely pleased by her answer. He bumps her shoulder affectionately. "That's my girl."

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW


End file.
